Page 18 of Feral Possession

Instead of being cowed as he’d intended, Dove firmed her chin and rose from her seat. With her determined gaze locked on him, she rounded his desk.

Intrigued, he watched as she perched her hip on his desktop, her long skirt parting to reveal her silken thigh. The scent of jasmine teased his senses. Her steady heartbeat, an enticing rhythm in his ears.

“I know my worth, Lord Steele, and I won’t let you nor anyone else make me feel cheap. You seem to think I’m ignorant about how the underworld operates, when, trust me, nothing can be further from the truth. The blood coursing through my veins is priceless, and yet ironically, it has cost me a great deal.” She thrust her bare arm beneath his shadowed hood. “In that contract that I didn’t read, I believe I agreed to share it with you. Know that I do so freely, with no judgment, nor need to belittle you.”

Beguiled by the flutter of her pulse in her wrist, he ignored her verbal jab. Yes, take what she offersss. She is oursss.

Lights flickered in the room. He eyed the slender expense of her forearm, her slim wrist with its delicate blue veins. Hunger twisting his gut, he dropped his gaze to the tender skin on the inside of her thigh. How easy it would be to grab her hips and sink his fangs into her sweet flesh.

In a soft whisper, she said, “Tell me, Steele, what has the acquisition of your great fortune cost you? If you were to visit a store, could you slap down a credit card and replace all you’ve lost?”

Her gentle words were a dagger stabbing his heart, striking deep. Did she think to teach him some twisted lesson in humility? Little fool. She had no idea what she provoked.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled, only to tug her off his desk and onto her feet. She gasped and stumbled before righting herself.

“Leave me,” he barked. “I’ve no time for this nonsense.”

After smoothing her skirts, Dove flounced to the door like a petulant child.

Rather than study the swish of her hips, he turned back to his work, resisting the urge to toy with her further. “Be ready to leave in an hour. My security team will escort you.”

She paused in the doorway. “Do I really need a security team to watch over me while I shop for underwear?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” Her bare feet slapped down the hallway, her voice trailing behind her. “Joke’s on you, Steele,” she sang. “I don’t wear underwear.”

At this, his lips may have curled just a bit.

Five

Dove clutched her purse in her lap, scanning the shops as they drove along the crowded street. Despite the little debate she’d had with Steele over the value of money, at least the shopping trip gave her a reason to get out of that stuffy penthouse. If he thought she missed the fact he’d refused her blood again, he was a bigger fool than he believed she was. What the heck was his deal, anyway? She believed the whole point of his agreeing to this arrangement was to help him heal. If he didn’t want her blood, what did he want?

“How about that store? They have some cute clothes in their window,” she said to Grumpy One. Like the majority of Marcus’s crew, the bodyguard was broad-shouldered, square-jawed, with the personality of a wet blanket. Seriously, line them up and they’d look like a chain of paper dolls strung together. Grumpy One drove on, not bothering to answer.

They sped past a shop with greenery surrounding its window. Crystals and dream catchers dangled from strings. Baskets overflowing with lotions and herbs filled the display. “Madam Mystiques. Oh, that sounds interesting. Let’s go there.” She poked Grumpy Two in the shoulder. He sat in the passenger seat next to One. Same intense look on his face. “If you pull over here, we can get some chocolate at the Sweet Spot then head to Madam’s.”

“Not on the list,” Two said.

“Come on,” she whined. “You said that about the last three shops I pointed out. Tell me. What is on this ridiculous list?” Apparently, Steele had left her guards with specific instructions. His control freak tendencies knew no bounds, extending to her choice of underwear.

At last, Grumpy One steered the SUV to the curb. Two tapped the device in his ear. “Copy that.” To his partner, he said, “All clear inside.”

“Ten-four,” Dove chirped, not wanting to be left out. She pressed her face to the window. “Are we finally going to do some shopping?”

Two exited and opened her door. Dove slung her massive purse over her shoulder and stepped out of the SUV. She squinted at the gilded name on the shop window. “Aphrodite’s on Main. Let me guess. It’s on the list?”

In answer, Two opened the boutique’s door, stepping aside for her to enter.

“Alright. Let’s get our shopping on.” No way was she going to allow a couple of surly vampires ruin her trip. She strolled inside and her heart sank, enthusiasm waning. Racks of color-coordinated clothing filled the space. All of it, tailored, pastel, unembellished. Along the wall were glass shelves filled with high heels, their toes pointy enough to be weapons. Every pump was perfectly aligned, evenly spaced on the shelf. Not a Birkenstock or flip-flop in sight.

At the back, she spotted yet another bodyguard. He met her eyes and nodded. Sheesh. Talk about overkill. Sure, she was caught in the crosshairs of two dangerous psychopaths. That didn’t mean she needed this much protection to buy underwear.

“Hello, and welcome to Aphrodite’s on Main,” said a nasally voice. The salesperson glided between the display racks. Every strand of her blond mane was swept into a perfect chignon. Her pencil skirt was so fitted she was forced to walk in tight mincing steps. The woman gave Dove a once-over, from sandals to maxi dress, to the ribbons she’d plaited into her hair. “You must be Dove, Lord Steele’s new Chosen.” While the saleswoman’s lips smiled, her eyes were chilly with disdain. “I’m Hilda, the owner of this establishment.”

“Owner. Wow. Good for you. You have a beautiful store.” And it was beautiful, just not to Dove’s tastes. As they say, to each their own.

“Yes,” Hilda agreed, instead of acknowledging the compliment. “Since I was ordered to close my entire boutique for you, I am at your disposal. While I confess, I was surprised when Lord Steele informed me his Chosen was in need of a complete wardrobe, now that we’ve met”—she sniffed, staring down her nose—“I understand completely.”

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